


coffee in the morning (five times dyson and kenzi share a cup of joe and one time they don't)

by earthandblood



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: 5 Times, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Coffee, Developing Relationship, Diners, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Friends to Lovers, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Literal Sleeping Together, Oral Sex, Size Kink, This ship does not get enough love, in my headcanon Kenzi is a secret coffee snob, there are multiple canon divergences just fyi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthandblood/pseuds/earthandblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>does what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> looks like i'm a day late and a buck short to this fandom party (as usual). this pairing thooooo - poor beautiful babes.
> 
> i'm taking ~~some~~ okay a lot of AU liberties in regards to events and general series timeline.
> 
> a bunch of this was typed out on my mobile so please excuse any errors i didn't catch.

Bo is still snoring when the scent of freshly brewed coffee lures him out of bed.

It's rich and dark and delicious smelling - not like the usual gunk Bo has fermenting in the pot.  Still, beneath that there is a bit of something, cloves and bergamot and cloying sweetness.

The little human pet.  

She moves quietly, surprisingly for a human, and Dyson wonders for a moment then lets the thought slip from his mind.

Kenzi is focused on a french press sitting in front of her, raven hair falling across her face and obscuring his view of her expression.

"Made enough to share, then?"  She starts a little at his voice, pale mouth curling around her surprise.

"Ugh, Bo seriously needs to a throw a bell on you."  There is an edge of wariness in her words but Kenzi slides him an empty mug all the same.

Of course she pours her own first; Bo is the only fae Kenzi will put before herself.  He watches her add heavy cream for what seems like forever, then skirt around the counter making sure to give him a wide berth.  Always keeping her distance, watching him from the corner of her eye.  

Kenzi settles onto the couch where a colorful bowl of cereal sits on the makeshift coffee table.  He watches her lift the mug to her face, sharp eyes sliding closed in pleasure, steam already starting to curl a lock of her unmade hair.

When she finishes her first taste, she notices the audience.

"Are you really just going to sit there dude, looking like Mr July out of the _Thunder from Down Under_ calendar?"

It's a reference he doesn't quite get (he gets enough of it, knows he's very attractive by human standards and any chance he can get to fluster the girl with his casual nudity amuses the wolf greatly.)

Kenzi sighs, scooches over and pats the couch cushion beside her.

“This is the only time I’m gonna allow you on the furniture, Kujo.”

He can’t stop his nose from wrinkling as he settles down next to her. The couch is lumpy and stained and smells like they dragged it off a street corner.

“Little too ‘fringe class’ for ya?”

“It’s…not the worst?” Dyson replies, trying to be diplomatic.

She blinks owlishly at him. “Wow that was generous of you.” Kenzi raises her hand towards his brow, then stops like she thinks better of it. “Are you feeling alright, D-man? Between the cartoon wavy heat lines coming off of you and the whole not looking down your nose thing at me, I’m almost worried.”

“Wolves run hot. Also, Bo seems to think you’re trustworthy.”

She scoffs and resumes her video game. If the blanket she’s cocooned up in shifts closer to him, he doesn’t comment, focuses on his coffee instead.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun is just starting to throw light across their building when Dyson pulls up. On the curb sits a figure, huddled and clutching a worn thermos.

 _Kenzi_.

She doesn’t acknowledge him as he walks up, only meeting his gaze when he stops in front of her.

“Mornin, dude. Bo’s snoozing upstairs,” Kenzi says, beginning to hitch her thumb backwards towards the building.

“Actually, I came to see you.”

She smirks and he relaxes a bit, folds his long frame down onto the curb next to her.

“In need of some fashion advice? Because let me tell you, I have a lot of feels about all these vests you seem so fond of,” she declares, tiny fingers poking at his shoulder.

They do that now, apparently; touch each other like they’re friends (they are friends, the first human friend he’s had in a very long time.)

“I was worried about you,” his voice low and soft.

Kenzi visibly deflates at that, unscrews the top of the thermos and takes a long drink from it, then pours some into the thermos top and offers it to him wordlessly.

He recognizes the rich coffee she likes to make, spiked with something strong and minty.

She doesn't speak for a while and he doesn't push, just passes the thermos back and forth with her.

"I thought," Kenzi starts, "I thought I'd never get to see another one, you know?"  She gestures at the sunrise cresting before them.  "And then I thought there's so many things I haven't seen, or done.  Things normal people settle for every day."

She takes another long drink.

"Do you want those things, Kenzi?"

"Nah, not really.  It was more like oh-my-god-I'm-dying sorta thinking.  Even if I'm just a stupid, fragile little human compared to all of you, maybe what I'm doing matters more than all that normal shit."

The breeze picks up, still chilled from the night, and Kenzi shivers, clutches the oversize cable knit sweater around herself tighter.  Dyson slips an arm around her and pulls till she relents, scoots next to him.  Her thigh is brushing his and he thinks he could almost wrap one hand completely around it.

"You would be warmer if you wore more sensible pants, Kenz."

She laughs, outright laughs, and the sound makes the wolf in him rumble happily.

"What is this 'sensible' you speak of?  I'm pretty sure that word is not in my vocab."

"I'm glad you didn't die."  

"Awww, Dyson, it's like you really care."  He hears her deflection, ignores it and instead offers his own. 

"You're important to Bo."  _Important to me,_ he thinks but can't get the words out, feels like a coward so he grips her a little tighter to his side and rests his chin lightly atop her hair.

She seems to get the message anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

From: K

To: Dyson

4:19 AM

_Deeeeeeeeeee_

 

From: BIG D

To: Kenzi

4:23 AM

_Yes, Kenzi?_

 

From: K

To: Dyson

4:24 AM

_ur so formal txting_

 

From: BIG D

To: Kenzi

4:26 AM

_I am actually working right now Kenz._

 

From: K

To: Dyson

4:30 AM

_whn u get off?_

 

Dyson frowns at his phone in the darkness.

 

From: BIG D

To: Kenzi

4:32 AM

_Is something wrong?_

 

From: K

To: Dyson

4:33 AM

_no @ 3 st diner w java want sum? also bacon_

 

From: K

To: Dyson

4:33 AM

 _doccubus_ _rager @ home_ _  
_

 

From: BIG D

To: Kenzi

4:37 AM

_I'll be there in twenty._

 

Kenzi perches on a seat at the diner bar, twisting back and forth, intent on whatever game she's playing on her phone.

"You said there would be bacon," he says taking a seat.  The empty plate in front of her holds scattered crumbs and bits, a smear of jelly.

"Chill, I can get more."  Her phone forgotten for a moment, Kenzi gets the cook's attention with a flutter of her eyes; the cook, in response, gives her a big grin and tosses six more pieces of sizzling bacon across the plate.

"And, voila!" Kenzi happily crunches into a strip, "Told ya."  There's two mugs topped off with coffee, the one on the left she snags and immediately starts dumping creamer into.  "Yeah so, sleep was not happening at mi casa obviously.  Bo had heart eyes for days, completely mooning over-" She winces at his expression (is he making that obvious of a face?) and gulps from her mug.

Thankfully, her phone starts making some sort of twinkly noise.

"Ooh, login bonus for today is schweet."

Dyson leans over, peering at the screen she's swiping black-tipped fingers across.  "Why are all the women so...impossibly proportioned?"

She coughs, and he can smell (not intentionally he's not a giant creep really) the flush of blood before he sees it bloom on her face.

"Outta my control, D.  The puzzle aspect is just too good not to play."  Kenzi finally looks back up at him, one eyebrow crooked upwards.  "Wanna try?  It's easy, and dogs are good at learning new tricks, right?"

He points a piece of bacon at her.  "Not a dog."

"Right, so totally not a dog whatsoever.  You are the big bad wolf in all his big bad glory."

Dyson smiles around his bite and gestures her closer. 

"Here," and she's taking his free hand in her small, cool ones and wiping his fingertips clean, "you just pick an enemy, then link similar colored gems together.  Get that sword in that chain, too, it'll give you a combo.  And combos equal bonus points."

They sit, heads bowed close together, till the bacon and coffee runs out.  The cook, coincidentally, is finishing his shift.

"Look at that - I gained a whole level thanks to you wolfy," Kenzi remarks and straightens up away from him (the wolf whines and wait why stop.)

"Give you a ride?"  She nods at him.

 

In his car she starts fiddling with the radio, finds Bobby Darin crooning _Beyond the Sea_.  The window comes down and Kenzi pointedly looks at him until he rolls his down as well.

Dyson's not sure when he started letting her tell him what to do; the wolf likes it when she's pleased with him, the feeling spilling over into his consciousness.  He wants to make her happy, wants to keep her happy.

Her happiness is a point of normalcy in his otherwise mystical bullshit filled-life, something to protect, to guard.

Here, in his car on this deserted street, he pretends it's just them; just two people, no Fae drama or tangled up relationships between them or threatening to kill them. 

So caught up in his thoughts that suddenly they're parked in front of her building, Kenzi yawning in the seat next to him and collecting her things.

"Thanks for the hang-time and the ride home," she starts thru the yawn, moving to turn away from him and he can't even stop himself from wrapping long fingers around her upper arm, fingertips pressing into cool flesh.

"Anytime, Kenz."

He must be making a face because she gives him a warm smile in return before rolling her eyes.  Kenzi lifts her hand to his jaw, behind his ear, slides fingers through his hair scratching lightly at his scalp.

"Yeah, yeah Balto.  I know how cool I am."

And he feels a little pathetic ( _okay maybe definitely a lot pathetic_ he thinks) at how much he wants to hear her say his name.


	4. Chapter 4

She knows.

(That might be the worst of all.)

She knows and they don't talk about it.

Don't talk to each other.

(No, that's worse.)

 

"Kenzi."

"You should come over.  I know you're off for the next few days-"

_Hale_  he thinks.

"-and I've got movies and video games that require a minimum of two people to really get full enjoyment-"

Dyson gets it.

"Alright, Kenz."

(He's been waiting, and this, this is not about Bo.)

 

When she opens the door he exhales (was he holding his breath), steps in as she turns, can feel all the ways they curve delicately around each other without touching (is this how it felt when it was her within the shell of him).

A movie plays softly on the tv, dreamy piano music accompanying animated figures dancing across the screen.

"Sit," she says and he does, watches her pour coffee into a glass, then slowly add sweetened milk till there are two distinct layers, stark contrast to his eyes and nose.

Then it's gone, swept away to neutral combination.

(Déjà-vu creeps up his spine.)

For a long time she just looks at him; long enough to make the wolf wriggle and whine in his head, long enough to make him wonder if he's ever let a human scrutinize him so openly.

Kenzi makes a face like she's trying to decide something just by looking at him (by really  _seeing_ him) and he starts feeling a little raw under her gaze, drops his to the glass in front of her.

It's in his hands in an instant, something different in her eyes now and her fingers wrap around his in the second he takes a breath, release and pull away.

The taste is sweet and full in his mouth, warmth dripping down and pooling in his chest.

(It's not love, can't be, but still.)

 

His fragile, brave, amazing little human.

And she's standing there,  _with his love in her hands,_ like a bad lovesong that's too bittersweet.

The space between them is strange, like they're farther apart then they actually are.  It doesn't feel real, and there is icy dread seeping up through him.

But Kenzi did this for him, for his happiness, and this is what he wants, right?

To love his mate again.  The way things are supposed to be.

(He wants to say something, but this is what she wants, right?)

Dyson opens the bottle, and forgets what he wanted to say; can't think, can't see, can only feel the wave crashing over him.


End file.
